


The Divide

by Finnasera



Category: Original Work
Genre: Asylums, Death, F/M, Gore, I am, Stalking, abandoned buildings, are you confused, i think, old town, references to some fandoms, small town, spray paint, teehee creepypasta, teenagers being teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22579873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnasera/pseuds/Finnasera
Summary: When troubled with the creeping feeling of boredom and conveniently having some freetime–things can go terribly wrong.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This thing is being written for fun.

The snow creeps and crawls against the cold solid ground, like a worm pushing through the layers of the earth after so long. The large grey clouds that spew out snowflakes cover the once beautiful blue sky, and the wet smell wafts around the pair walking beside a small road. Their cheeks and noses are ruby red and the smaller figure shivers from the force of the wind. 

She bites her chapped bottom lip before speaking. "Did you study for the algebra quiz?" Her shining eyes are partially hidden by her lash grazing bangs and her blonde hair is frizzy and wet from the many snowflakes that landed on her head. However, the taller male was able to see her glimmering brown eyes, and continued to stare into the brown pools as he responded. 

"Yeah. Want me to catch you up?" She smiled at his response.

"Abso-fucking-lutely." His head bobbed, his eyes closed and his hand came behind his neck, giving the skin a decent scratch. 

She looked at his face, skin flushed red from the cold and his ocean blue eyes hidden. A whole body shake rocked through her, and her vision suddenly blurry. Lightly tanned hands started to tremble harshly as she looked to her right. The only clear object in her line of sight was her friend Thomas strangely slowed in time, and the black and grey car that was currently speeding towards them. 

"Morgan?" Thomas' questioning voice was quickly replaced with a strangled yell. Her body crashed into his like a boulder, and it sent him to the ground. No words were muttered as the car's horn blared as it sped past them, and smell of the tires fresh against the asphalt. Thomas looked up, his brown hair in his eyes as Morgan stared down the black and grey car speed down the road. 

Morgan turned her head to him, brown eyes damp behind her bangs. "What the fuck was that guy's problem? He almost killed us!" Thomas held out his hand as she approached him, angry tears slipping down her cheeks. Morgan grabbed his hand, pulling him up with some difficulty. "People are just off their rocker this week. It started with the robbery in town, and now drivers trying to run students over? It's ridiculous!" She grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the sidewalk across the road. 

"Hey. Don't sweat it." Thomas gave a small smile and ran his fingers through her wet hair. "All of this weird stuff will die down, right? It always does." Morgan sighed and grabbed his hand. 

"Yeah. You're right." As they walked the rest of the way to school, she repressed the voice in her head to tell Thomas what she felt before she pushed him out of the way. Would she just sound crazy? Could she just blame the whole body shiver and her hands shaking like she just killed someone, on the lack of sleep or eating? Possibly; But, she had to stay truthful to him, because if she didn't stay truthful to Thomas, she would never be truthful again. Delaying the urge to tell him would be good for now, as this is only the first time she experienced something that strange. 

The music floods into his head through his ears. It's upbeat, and covers the dark lyrics. Thomas can't help but mouth the lyrics with his voice dead on his tongue, as his pencil taps against the desktop in rythm to the beat. There was light tap on his shoulder, and it lead to him pausing the loud song. He plucked an earbud out of his ear and turned to whoever interrupted him.

Morgan gave a passive smile, pointing to the empty chair beside him. "I'm guessing he's not coming back?" She was talking about Steven, who supposedly left to print some papers in the library. 

"Most likely." Thomas' thoughts wandered to Steven. He is most likely in the bathroom with his friends smoking. Thomas is close with Steven, but didn't share the same habits with him. Though he shared some interests with him. Steven loved videogames and Thomas enjoyed watching him play, they both liked to drive around town with some good tunes, but Thomas and Steven both agreed that exploring the abandoned buildings around town and decorating them with spray paint was especially fun. 

Morgan nodded and pulled the chair out and sat down, crossing her legs underneath the table. "So...what are you doing this weekend?" Her voice broke his thoughts in half. 

"I might go to U.H.S." His pencil scratches against his paper. "Unless you want to hang at my place?" Morgan looks behind her at the teachers desk. The teacher squints their eyes behind the thick glasses and leans into the computer. She turns back to him and places her pencil down, and her eyes almost looked cloudy. 

"What're gonna do there?" Thomas bit his lip and slid his chair closer to her. His fingers pushed her fair hair behind her ear and cupped his hand, and whispered to her. 

"I wanted to go there and tag it." He pulled Morgan's hair back over her ear and leaned back. "I thought it could be fun to experience the mountain air while I was there." Thomas shrugged with a smile. Morgan glances at him and he can already read her thoughts. "I'll stay safe. I always bring my pepper spray with me if the place is sketchy." 

She did not know what else to say. Morgan didn't have to ask what was U.H.S. It was a dangerous place, and the final resting place for the patients that were there; subjected to torture and mutilation. The sanatorium was shut down two years ago in early January, after a brave and determined journalist went through the hellish hallways and exposed Upshur Heights Sanatorium. No one knows his name or where he ended up after the events of Upshur Heights Sanatorium. However, the people of Upshur Heights know what happened to the anonymous journalist while he was in the hellish sanatorium.

The thirty one hour long tape shows the journalist getting thrown down countless flights of stairs, being forced to hide in the sheer darkness with nothing but a small video camera, and two of his fingers getting cut off by a sadistic surgeon. The list could go on. However, Morgan had to escape from the darkest retreats of her mind and pay attention to Thomas' conversation.

"I don't really think pepperspray is going to stop a lunatic trying to kill you..." Morgan curls a strand of fair hair around her finger, brown eyes rolling to Thomas.

"Then why don't you come with us? Safety in numbers, right?" Thomas picks up his pencil and softly bites the pink eraser with his incisors. The thought wavers in his head. It would be fun to see how Morgan reacts when it comes to an entirely different area, an area that will be marked by them. The group should be able to overpower anyone who tries to harm them. The body of the eraser is dented from the force he was biting with. Thomas starts to tap his paper, staring at Morgan. Morgan bites her thumbnail and meets Thomas' stare. "You know, why not? I can be a delinquent like you and Steven."


	2. solivagant

The school day quickly reaches its end, an unhealthy amount of snow and rain cascading from thick blanket of grey above the student's heads. The snow and rain mix and make slush on the ground, and it soaks into his shoes and the cold numbs his feet. The friends were walking side-by-side on the sidewalk, the same exact path they took to school this morning. The road came up into their view and they stood at the edge, waiting for an opening. Thomas asked Morgan about her day. Morgan almost failed her math test, but a couple well placed guesses helped her reach the desired grade. Thomas had no trouble with it as he answered all of the questions perfectly, but the graphing portion of the test really threw a curve ball towards him.

Silence brewed in the air afterwards. They were approaching the crosswalk from this morning, and there were no cars coming. Morgan bit her lip, fingers twitching at her sides. Out of the safety of her friend who currently had his head in the clouds, her hand dove towards Thomas' hand, and wove her fingers between his long ones tightly. Morgan walked briskly across the road and Thomas trailed behind her. 

Morgan's questioning of U.H.S. flirted with his thoughts, and he complied. The plan was set for the afternoon hours of Saturday. Steven suggested bringing some snacks and possibly his camera. He wanted to take pictures of U.H.S., and print them. You could say it was a present for Thomas' upcoming birthday, a motif that would go with the others on his wall. Thomas allowed it, as the camera had a night vision mode. The camera could guide them through the dark if the batteries in the flashlights were drained towards the end of the night. 

"Jeez Thomas, can't spare a second without you spacing out." Morgan snapped her fingers in front of his face, and Thomas blushed in embarrassment. 

He laughs nervously. "Sorry about that. I was thinking about Steven's camera." They were approaching his house now, the stone steps leading up to the kitchen door. 

"Oh yeah…” Morgan rolls her eyes, “I still can't believe you're letting him bring that." Morgan groaned, her fingers untangling from Thomas' warm digits. A small, nervous smile spread across his face as he pulled the house key from his pocket, “What if we get caught? The police would see the videos we took on it.” 

“Hey. We won’t get caught, we’re basically the best at sneaking. Plus, the asylum doesn’t have any security posts in the woods around it. I’ve researched everything.” The lock turns and the door pops open, the warmth of the home hitting them in their faces. "It's fine as long as he doesn't post any of the pictures online. He wants some pictures for the group room." They walk in, and Thomas locks the door behind him. It clicks lightly, and he walks to the fridge for a snack they can share. "You wanted some new pictures in the room because you thought it looked bland, right?" Morgan snorts quietly and folds her arms on the kitchen table. She rests her head sideways on them; and looks up at the brunette. 

"Damn, why do you remember everything? I thought that was my job." Thomas' laugh is light and airy, devoid of any shame. The refrigerator door opened, and a jug of milk come out and settled itself on the table. He walks towards the cabinets above the counter, and grabs a random cereal that his dad bought last week. Morgan's chair scrapes the floor, and the cabinet to his left is opened. Two lilac bowls were taken out and are quickly reunited with the jug of milk with a soft clank. 

"Your memory is unmatched to mine, I bet you can barely remember what happened past third period." Morgan's face scrunched up in deep thought, and Puck can't help but snicker at the sight. Morgan's dark eyes light up with memory. 

"No, you fucker! I can actually prove you wrong today." Thomas watches her in amusement as she scoops up the lilac bowl from her seat and walks into the living room, falling on the plush leather couch. The air escapes the cushions with a faint wheeze. “We had a new student in English! He had my hair but a little darker and deep blue eyes." She grins to herself, and Thomas sits down beside her on the couch. Morgan grabs the TV remote, turning on the large TV. She scrolls through the channels, but stops searching when an old cartoon blared loudly from the TV speakers. 

"What was his name?" Thomas asks. His cereal bowl is step on the coffee table. 

Morgan blanks. 

"You can't be serious." Thomas groans.

Morgan grimaces, but her eyes light with recognition. "No, no! His name is Waylon. He likes computers and exploring." Thomas perked up at the mention of Waylon's second hobby. What kind of exploring? Would it be taking long hikes outside? Or maybe having an internet deep dive, looking for the weirdest stuff he could find?

"I thought the same thing. He seemed pretty cool, like he could fit in with us." She nods at her own thought. "I have to admit, it's hard making friends with people who don't talk a lot. I feel like I have to–" Her hands come from her chest, and pushes out. "–insert myself more." She trails off and her left hand wanders up her chest, resting on her frantically beating heart. 

"Yeah, I feel you." He was the exact same way at the beginning. She remembers specifically setting up dates and times for when they could hang out. Time spent memorizing his schedules. "It'll get more comfortable and easier once you get the formalities out of the way, and start to hang out." Thomas' hand claps Morgan's shoulder. "And too start you off I want you to open up to him, get Way comfortable in the new setting."

Morgan laughs softly at Thomas' nickname for Waylon. "Way? To be honest with you, I think he might like that nickname."


End file.
